Safeword (13 page)

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we not talk about it?”

“Are you okay?” he looked at me sharply, concerned.

“Fine, except for the hard-on I just sprung despite the cock ring.”

He grinned, taking my hand and resting his elbow on the console, bringing my fingers to his lips. “I’ll stop. For now.”

My parents’ house was a narrow two-story that went deep onto the lot, eating up most of the backyard. The big porch still had the swing, though the cushions had been taken inside for the winter. Mason and Sandra’s car was the only one there.

“All that bitching Cole did, and he’s the one running late,” I grumbled as we parked behind my brother and walked up the front path.

“What difference does it make?” Ben asked as we climbed the steps, his hand on the small of my back. I barely felt it through the thick layers of fabric around my torso.

“None, I guess. Just more room for them to focus on me.”

“But you don’t need to worry about that, because you’re doing great, right? You’re together, confident, have things handled.” Man, he knew how to push my buttons in the right ways. I immediately calmed. “Call this a test to see how well the corset works.”

The door opened before I could answer, and my nieces, Annalise and Marcie, rushed out to greet us. Annalise, on the cusp of turning six and almost too big for such things, jumped into my arms. Marcie, too cool for such exuberance at eight, simply waited for Annalise’s swinging feet to settle before she moved in for a hug. I wrapped an arm around her and settled Annalise into the crook of my elbow.

“Uncle Gavin, will you play tea with me?” Annalise asked, a palm on each of my cheeks as she looked down at me from her perch on my arm.

“She’s going to make you wear a crown,” Marcie warned.

“So? Boys wear crowns if they want.” Annalise stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“Sometimes they do,” Ben said, smiling and holding the door open so we could go in out of the cold. “They’re called drag queens.”

“What do they drag?” Annalise asked, eyes wide.

“Nothing, really,” I answered, shooting Ben a mock glare. Mason was going to love us. “They’re men who dress as women. Some are performers, and some do it because they’re more comfortable. Some are even prettier as women than other women are.”

“I wanna be a drag queen,” Annalise chirped. “‘Specially if it means I get to wear a crown.”

“Mom won’t let you,” Marcie said with an all-knowing air. “The princess stuff stays home, remember?”

“That’s
princess
stuff. Not drag queen stuff.” Annalise rolled her eyes as if the difference should have been obvious. She wiggled to get down and scampered off to the kitchen, her sister hot on her heels to see what their mom would say.

“Great. Thanks, Ben. Thanks so much.”

He shrugged, taking our coats to the coatrack by the door. “Hey, what are uncles for if not to throw wrenches in the wheels of sibling parents?”

“But I’m the one who’ll get yelled at.”

“All the more reason.” He grinned, and while no one was around, gave me a quick peck on the lips.

“Gavin!” Ma shouted from the kitchen.

I walked across the dining room, answering the bellow. “Yeah, Ma. I’m here. I’m alive. I’m fine. And I’m happy. Any other questions?”

Ma, a smallish woman with steel gray hair she wore in elaborate braids and a warm face that currently sported a stern look, held her arms up as if to hug me. I knew better. She wanted an inspection. I obediently stepped forward and let her look me up and down.

“I just worry,” she finally said, apparently satisfied I hadn’t managed to tempt mortality for another week.

I cut her some slack, though. In a family full of cops, we’d been lucky not to have had much injury. My ordeal was the closest anyone had come to being in danger, so I understood a certain amount of doting on her part. Didn’t mean I knew how to handle it well, but I did give her room for it.

“You look good, though,” she begrudged, like she couldn’t bear to not have something on which she could suggest improvement. “You get a haircut? It looks nice,” she went on, without waiting for an answer.

“Thanks,” I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. It wasn’t as easy with the corset on, but I managed it without looking awkward.

“Something happen at work?” Mason asked, coming into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of iced tea. “You look like you got some kind of award or something.”

“How does one look like they’ve gotten an award?” I laughed.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“No, actually. I’ve got a couple cases that are kicking my as—butt.” I glanced at Ma, who said nothing. “If I never see the inside of another pawn shop again, it’ll be too soon. The other leads we have are slow in coming, and nothing’s panning out.”

“This that detective’s murder?”

I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and poured a glass of tea for Ben, who was munching on a carrot stick and standing as out of the way as he could. Sandra herded the girls back to the living room, each with a few crackers and cheese to keep them happy until brunch was ready.

“Yeah, and a dead patrol officer down at Fourth looks like it could be related.”

Mason looked at me sharply. “Related how?”

“No shop talk!” Ma barked. It was her one rule on Sundays. She lived and breathed precinct this and suspect that all week long. Sunday was her day of rest, as well as God’s.

I dipped a cucumber slice into the small bowl of ranch dressing. “Same MO,” I mouthed to Mason when Ma was bent over the oven, extracting the ham.

“You okay with that?” he mouthed back.

I shrugged and nodded, taking a breath and feeling the hug around my middle. It made me glance at Ben and smile.

“I’m doing good, Mason,” I said out loud. “Thanks for asking.”

“Well, I don’t know what it is, but you look better.” He wandered off to supervise the girls while Sandra helped cut the ham into big, steaming slices.

“Can I help with anything?” Myah asked.

She strode into the room, rolling up the sleeves on a satiny button-down shirt that accentuated her waist. I rarely noticed my partner’s physique, despite her being a remarkably beautiful woman, but I couldn’t help picturing what her posture would be if she wore a corset. Maybe I’d mention it to her, and if she got one, I’d send Cole a “You’re Welcome” card.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” I groused. She settled herself on the other side of the island from me and began tossing a giant bowl of layered salad.

“I know. Cole was all weird today, making sure we looked nice, and he even insisted on ironing my clothes for me.”

“My brother,” I said, surprised, another cucumber slice suspended in my frozen fingers. “My younger brother knows how to iron.” I needed confirmation of this.

“Yes, I know how to iron,” Cole growled, striding to the fridge for a soda. “I’m damn good at it, too.”

“He’s damn good at it,” Myah echoed teasingly.

“Watch it, woman,” he said, scooting back out of the crowded space to stand near the door. “You’ll be ironing your own stuff for eternity if you don’t appreciate what I do for you.”

“Oh, I appreciate it,” she said quickly, winking at me. “I hate ironing. I’ll pawn that off on you forever if you let me.”

“Lots of forever and eternity talk going on here,” Ma said, bringing a heaping plate of meat to the island to get it out of the way while Sandra finished up the mashed potatoes. Cole mumbled something but it was lost in the whir of the KitchenAid mixer beating the spuds into creamy perfection. Myah stopped with the salad long enough to give Ma’s shoulder a squeeze.

My family adored Myah, and it was clear the feeling was mutual. I smiled at her affectionately, not only grateful for her having my back in all situations, even these personal ones, but also for making my brother ridiculously happy.

“He
ironed
for you. I’d say he’s a keeper.” I bumped the top of her hand with mine.

“Help me get this food to the table,” Ma said, handing me the plate of meat. We all grabbed what we could and filed into the dining room, where Mason was just finishing setting the table.

“Hello!” The final family members had arrived, my brother, Shawn, and his wife, Chrissy. They hurried in as we were sitting down, and I pulled Chrissy’s chair out for her. She gave me a grateful smile and settled her heavily pregnant self into the seat with a sigh of relief. When I took my seat beside Ben, he squeezed my knee beneath the table.

“Sorry we’re late,” Chrissy said a little breathlessly. “It’s not easy getting this huge baby motel moving in the mornings.”

Ma waved her off. “We’re just glad you made it, dear.”

Sandra leaned forward with a conspiratorial wink. “Wait until the little booger arrives. You’ll have all manner of baby gear to haul everywhere.”

“Not here, you won’t,” Dad grumbled, loading his plate with potatoes and passing them on. “Your ma’s dying to get the baby stuff out of the attic and dust it off.”

“I do know I’m going to make Shawn carry the diaper bag as much as possible.” Chrissy grinned, tearing into a roll. “My coworkers threw me a shower and got me one, and it’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. Puffy quilted monstrosity in pea green and peach with a sheep pattern.”

The conversation continued as the meal wore on, and I got full faster than usual. Probably since my stomach couldn’t handle the pressure of too much in it coinciding with the pressure exerted from the outside.

“Gavin, honey? Do you feel okay? You didn’t finish your food.”

“I’m good, Ma,” I assured her, sitting back and patting my stomach, the stiff fabric beneath my shirt solid as ever. “Watching my weight.”

“Well, you look really good,” Myah said, eyeing me with interest. “Been working out more, huh?”

“Sure you don’t want more ham?” Ma asked, reaching for the plate.

“No, thanks. I can’t eat any more.”

“But that’s about half your norm,” she pressed. Beside me, Ben grinned, covering it with a drink of iced tea. I nudged him with my knee.

“Yeah, my stomach’s shrunk in the last few weeks.”

“Leave him alone, Ma,” Cole said, albeit gently. “He knows the word to say when he’s had enough.”

I caught both his and Myah’s grins and glowered at them. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably, though the children nattered on, oblivious.

“Wow, Cole. Maybe you should go iron something,” I suggested sardonically.

“Leave him be, Ma,” my dad grumbled. “He can take care of himself.”

“Thank you, Dad.” The support from an unexpected corner surprised and touched me.

“Of course he can.” Ma smiled at me affectionately. “But I’m a mother. I won’t ever stop keeping an eye on my boys.”

“So, Ben.” Mason cleared his throat. I was surprised he spoke directly to Ben, but come to think of it, his demeanor had been more open to the pair of us. Maybe he was finally getting used to having a gay brother. Whatever the reason, I was grateful he seemed to be trying for acceptance. “I have a question for you about this kid we keep arresting. Good home life, super smart. But he’s a hacker, keeps getting into the systems of local agencies and playing pranks. He’s got great parents who are at their wits’ end with him. I’d hate to see him screw up so bad he ruins his future. But we’ve threatened him with all manner of consequences, and he keeps doing it. I don’t get it. Thought maybe you would know, since you’re the behavior guru.”

Ma shot Mason a dirty look for bringing up shop talk at the table, but it wasn’t like she could fault him for asking for help with a minor.

“What kind of pranks?” Shawn asked, putting an arm across the back of Chrissy’s chair.

“Oh, like he broke into the Missouri Department of Transportation mainframe and changed all the electronic signs on the highways to read, ‘The zombies are coming! Run for your lives!’ Hacked Lumiere Casino’s system and advertised on their light-up highway sign that the Sunday buffet in all their restaurants was free. They had to honor it or risk pissing off the angry hordes.” Mason tried to keep the smile off his face, but his amusement was clear. “Then there was the LOLCats picture on the Ram’s billboard promising those attending the games that they were guinea pigs in a mind-control experiment.”

I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped. “Well, at least your guy has a sense of humor.”

“True, but the tens of thousands of dollars Lumiere lost on their free Sunday buffet alone is enough to get the kid thrown in juvie, and his parents are terrified of being sued.”

“How old is he?” Ben asked.

“Fourteen.”

Ben whistled. “They get younger every year. Well, considering his home life is stable, he’s not doing it out of any kind of anger. Plus, the humorous messages lead me to believe he’s a generally happy kid. I’d say he’s bored, looking for a challenge, and has a normal teenager’s disdain for the establishment, so he’s thumbing his nose at The Man. Usually for someone like that, they’re deterred by more severe consequences. You say he’s not?”

“Oh, he plays contrite really well,” Mason answered, propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “Promises not to do it again. A few months go by, and we start getting complaints from motorists about some new trick he’s played. The city’s ready to throw the book at him, but since he did the highway signs first and landed in our hands, the city’s deferring to us. I don’t know how long that will last.”

“Okay, so my suggestion would be to get the casino to give him a job.”

Mason stared. “What?

“He’s bored. He likes to make people laugh. And he’s a genius with computers. Surely, they’d have something he could do. Designing new and spectacular ads for their electronic sign. Planning promotions that will help the casino make money and bring people in. Or hell, have him even check out the holes in their security system.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mason gaped.

“Not at all,” Ben said, ticking off points on his fingers. “One, the casino could keep a close eye on him and know he’s not up to no good in their systems. Two, he works for them for nothing to pay off the money they lost in the free buffet and his parents can quit worrying about a lawsuit. Once his prank is paid off, they start paying him so he has incentive to stay. Three, he has a challenge to keep him busy and out of trouble, and he sees someone can appreciate his talents for the good they can do, not just the bad. And four, the casino gets a bright, smart employee and helps keep that kid from ruining his life when he’s too young to realize how bad he’s screwing up.”